


Chronicles of Narnia: Narnia Isle

by Kenliano



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-01
Updated: 2009-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenliano/pseuds/Kenliano
Summary: Johann Jalloh is taken into the world of Narnia, where he meets a girl from his own world, and creatures he could only dream of. They find themselves in the land of Ularni, a nation south of Narnia. Like all children who find themselves in this world, the pair are there for a reason. But what is it? And will they ever get home?





	1. Into the Strange Land

**Author's Note:**

> A short story by CaribbeanRose9 can be seen as the prologue of this piece: http://caribbeanrose9.deviantart.com/art/Narnia-Awakens-111486452

אני רואה אותך, ילדי

Johann Jalloh couldn't believe his eyes. Or his ears, or his nose for that matter. He knew that he had just been lying on a wooden floor just a few seconds before. And then, all of a sudden, he was lying on grass, peering into a blue sky through the rather wide crown of a palm tree. The scent of the salty water and of vegetation was undeniable. The sound of waves crashing a few yards away had a surprisingly calming effect after the tormented silence that had characterized the last few hours of his life.

Yet, he couldn't believe it. His breath came in bursts as he struggled to understand what was happening around him. Sitting up, he shut his eyes, thinking hard to remember something, _anything_ that would explain how and why he was where he was.

But, the horrors and sounds that kept replaying in his mind pulled him back to the present reality violently, with no better idea of how he'd ended up there. He slowly got to his feet, looking around. The grass was crisp and shallow; he presumed it was because of the sandy nature of the soil. He could hear the waves breaking, but he was surrounded by a forest of palms and could not see the ocean.

Unfortunately, though, the surprises didn't end there. He saw when the woman suddenly appeared in front of him; there was _no_ way that he had imagined _that_!

"How did you get here?" she asked, a look of utmost perplexity on her face. Her skin was a dark sandy colour, like the trunks of the palms around them. She had pale straw-like hair that seemed to refuse to obey gravity, each 5- or 6- inch strand sticking out in a different direction. Her nose, long and pointy, rested between two dark-green eyes that peered intensely at Johann. She wore what appeared to be a white garment of some sort, wrapped around her to resemble a swim suit.

"English?" he muttered under his breath. He knew English quite well; after all, his mother spent much of her young life in Britain. But he had not spoken it to anyone outside his family in who knows how long? He recovered composure a bit after he had stumbled back in shock and stammered, "I should ask _you_ that question." He looked at her with frightened dark-brown eyes.

"You popped out of nothing and nowhere right in front of _me_ , in _my_ personal space, and you question _me_?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Johann's eyebrows furrowed in frustration and confusion. "I think you have it the other way around, madam," he said. "You are the one that appeared in from of me."

The lady's eyes softened a bit in realization. "You are serious, aren't you?" He nodded. After a few moments of studying his eyes, she said, "I assume you are not from this land. Your speech gives you away." She unfolded her arms and walked past him to the palm tree that he had found himself lying beneath just a few short moments ago.

"My name is Perin," she said. "I am a Dryad." She looked at the dark-skinned boy, and must have realized that he did not understand. She continued. "This tree is me. My body. I am capable of leaving my body and taking this form. Do you now understand?"

Johann was quiet for a while, and then nodded slowly.

"I must say," Perin mused, more to herself than to Johann, "I have heard tales of humans but never in my life had I dreamed I would ever see one."

The young boy looked at her with hopeless confusion in his eyes and she softened a bit more. "I do not know where I am," he told her. "Or how I got here."

"The tales become real," she said with a knowing smile. "I suppose I must be the one to tell you where you are."

***

Helena Kensington was more fortunate than Johann. She, like her grandmother before her (who had heard it from her sister Lucy), had some knowledge of this strange world before ever entering it. Her reddish-blonde hair tucked away in a ponytail, Helena sat on her bed, caressing the black book she had taken from her dresser and held in her hand.

Her grandmum Susan's journal. She had hardly waited until after dinner was over before returning to pick it up again. But she now had such confusion in her heart. 

_Grandmum this was all real to you, wasn't it?_ she thought. _Not just a story No wonder Mum was so afraid._ Susan had been two years older than Helena's ten years when, as the journal said, she entered the land of Narnia. _The war maybe the war scared you and you made this up to help with the fear and pain._

Nonetheless, Helena decided to keep reading. This journal was her last chance to peek into her grandmother's heart and mind. Even though this wasn't real, Helena could feel that it had been real to Susan. And that was enough to motivate her.

But, she did not get the chance to continue reading the fantastic tales; at least not then. The ornately depicted image of a lion's profile on the cover of the journal suddenly  no, it couldn't be  suddenly _moved_ beneath her right hand, just as she had been about to open the book. The animal's face turned towards her, emerald eyes glowing so bright that everything else in the room seemed to fade away in the light.

At first, it confused her that she didn't scream. But, as the mouth of the lion opened and said her name, she remembered the description of the voice of Alsan in her grandmother's own handwriting. _It is simply impossible to describe. It sounds like silk feels against your skin, and yet sounds like the power of a thousand thunderbolts is contained within it. That is the voice of Aslan._

"Helena," Aslan said. "Helena."

She suddenly felt as if she was floating on the emerald light. It was then that she realized that she could see nothing of the room she had been in. The bed was gone, the walls, the dresser, even the book she'd held in her hand. All of them had vanished, engulfed by the light.

And then, she was somewhere else.

It had been night at home. But it was daytime in this new place. The sea breeze felt so pure in her nostrils. She was on a slightly elevated piece of land and she could see the blue waves beyond a large tangle of palm trees at the bottom of the small hill. Behind her, farther than she could have ever walked, was a tall mountain range that she could see beyond a vast forest. She had never seen so many trees in her life. Growing up in the stone jungle that is London, one only imagines such things.

"I can't believe it," she said out loud, elated beyond all expectation. _You were right, Grandmum! You weren't crazy!_ "Narnia!"

She dashed ahead, in the direction of the beach, the wind catching her long hair and fluttering through her pink T-shirt and white shorts. She entered the small forest of palms, eager to move past it and into the open air of sand and sea. But suddenly, she caught sight of something of out the corner of her eye. She stopped in her tracks and saw him: Aslan.

"I am sorry to say that this will be no leisurely visit, Helena, daughter of Eve," he said, moving towards her. "You were called here for a specific task."

Helena looked at him in wonder; a lion was _speaking_ to her. He was so large, and yet there was as much gentleness as there could have been in any human parent's eyes.

"What is it you want me to do?" she asked, determined that she would be brave for her Grandmum Susan's memory. And out of respect for what her grandmother had written in the journal: 'After all, he's not a _tame_ lion.'

"I am afraid, small one, that this is not the land of Narnia, but another land to the south. You are one of the only two children of Adam and Eve to set foot in this land for many, many years. A usurper has claimed the throne of the rightful king," Aslan said, his expression grave. "You must find the true king of this country and find a way to restore what is his. You will share this quest with the other human, a boy, a son of Adam."

Helena's eyes widened. How? She was just ten! There was no way _she_ could do this!

"You doubt," Aslan announced, interrupting her internal protest. "Rest assured, I would never set before you a task that you could not perform. Does not Queen Susan's journal tell you such?"

The girl's eyes lowered to the huge paws of the lion. "Yes," she answered. She could not remember ever being more speechless than she was before this great beast.

"Your task begins," she heard him say and lifted her gaze to meet his. "You will meet your companion there." He pointed his head to his right, indicating a path slightly to the left of the one she had been taking before.

She could think of nothing else to do but nod and start off. But she quickly stopped in her tracks and turned, partially surprised to see him still there. "Wait," she said softly, shyly. "Will I see you again?"

Aslan gave her what she thought was a smile. "Indeed, you will." His nod shook his mane in a solemn wave of motion that somehow made it clear that this was a promise. "Now, go."

***

Johann absorbed what Perin had told him. He was in a world that was not his own in a country known as Ularni. She had heard rumours of the world of the humans; that there were no Talking Beasts, no Dryads, no Dwarfs, Puddleglums, or such creatures. The twelve-year-old confirmed the truth of those reports.

"As the Lion roars, I never thought I would see the day that a son of Adam pass through the gateway between worlds and enter this land," said Perin. "We were always taught that the Human monarchy belonged to the Northern Lands. But I suppose I should call you Lord Johann." The young adult Dyad curtseyed before him.

"No, no; I am no lord," protested Johann. He lowered himself to the floor, resting against Perin's palm. This was all so unbelievable; it couldn't be true. And yet it was. He doubted he had the imagination or the will to envision such a world.

His head turned suddenly as he heard quick footsteps approaching. Perin gazed in the direction of the sound as well and both sets of eyes were met with the image of Helena Kensington rushing into view from behind the palm trees.

"By the Mane!" Perin exclaimed. "You you are a daughter of Eve."

Helena nodded, panting from the run and sensitised to the phrase by Aslan's words. Johann got to his feet, looking at her curiously and Helena introduced herself. "Lady Helena!" Perin said in what was almost a yell. "Welcome to the land of Ularni! I am Perin and this is Lord Johann."

"Just Johann is fine," he corrected, putting an exasperated hand on his chocolate-coloured forehead.

"Nice to meet you," Helena said quite pleasantly. She could tell that Johann was not exactly as pleased as Perin was with the state of things. She quickly placed his accent: German. He was not from this world either, but from hers. 

His skin was darker than Perin's, the colour of the chocolate milk she'd drank that morning before leaving for her grandmother's funeral. She guessed that his black hair had been trimmed a few days before and he wore a white button-up shirt with sleeves that ended halfway down his forearms. Beneath his shirt was a pendant, but all she could see was the black rope-like string that held it around his neck. His pants were black and reached down to his ankles. He was barefoot like she was. There was something off about his clothes, though; something she couldn't put her finger on. But Helena pushed the question aside.

"Johann," she said, "I think I know why we're here. I spoke to Aslan."

Johann's brow furrowed. "Who?" He supposed he should have felt relief at having met another human, a familiarity amidst this foreign world, but he didn't. He wanted answers.

"Who is Aslan?" Perin muttered with a shake of the head. "I doubt that there is any adequate answer to that question. He is the Great Lion by which the nations swear  if they know anything about anything  and the one who sang this world into existence. He is son of the Great Emperor, King of all "

"I think I understand," Johann interrupted, having a feeling that this diatribe would go on for quite some time. So, this Aslan was a king and he was powerful. What did that have to do with why he had appeared in this world? He kept his expectant gaze on the younger girl with intense brown eyes.

Helena saw something in those eyes that she could not define. But she sensed that he wanted her to continue, so she did. "He said that we are supposed to find the rightful king of this land and help him reclaim his throne."

Perin's eyes shot wide open at the girl's words and she looked around quickly before turning back to Helena. "Do not say such things! Come with me!" She turned in the direction of the sea, waving the children after her. She led them quickly through the palms. The children did not dare say a word, having seen the utterly frightened look on her face. As they passed the trees, Johann guessed why. This must have been a forest of Dryads just as she was: Dryads that could hear every word that they said.

After a few minutes, they came clear of the watchful eyes and keen ears of the tall plants. She kept going until they saw the water rush up to her ankles. Three barefoot people at the beach; unfortunately, all knew this would be far from an enjoyable day out.

Perim finally broke the tension. "King Erya is a wicked king," was the poignant statement that explained her behaviour quite well. "He overtaxes, claims the best of all farmers' crops for his dinner plate and the strongest of each family for his army... And other atrocities I dare not say before children. It is not safe to be heard speaking about him in such a way." She turned from the two children and to the sea, wrapping her arms around herself. "So, Aslan has given you the quest that will answer our prayers." She turned back to them and smiled. "King Enden, the _true_ king of Ularni, fled long ago. His spirits were shattered beyond repair when his one son died."

Johann did not know what he was feeling, but whatever it was, it prompted him into quiet. He listened intently, not feeling anxious or even confused anymore. He kept holding on to the task at hand. He felt it was the only thing keeping him together.

"Where did he go?" asked Helena, glancing at Johann. What was she seeing? It was like what had been in her mother's eyes at Grandmum Susan's funeral, but a lot more intense, almost feral.

Perin turned again, pointing directly towards the sea. "To an island. A small island. I have never been there. I have never been very far from here. I don't like leaving myself behind, you see."

"So how will we get there?" Helena asked, feeling already that this 'task' was proving impossible.

Perin's smile hadn't faded. There had been a particular reason she came to the beach. Her leaves, measuring the intensity and direction of the sunlight, told her what time it was without her having to use her eyes to know where the sun was. And it was about time for a couple of friends to visit her on the shore.

When she saw the fin pierce through the waves, she said softly, "Perfect timing as usual." She turned to the children. "Come."

Again, there was urgency in her demeanour, but this time it was far more playful. She led them a few yards away to a large black rock that jutted out into the ocean from the beach. It was very warm to their feet in the late morning sun, but the children endured it and followed her, eyes fixed on the dorsal fin that moved towards them.

The children knew it was a dolphin. There was no doubt about that. But they soon saw something else pop out from the ocean near the dolphin. It was larger than a fin, rounder. The dolphin, looking just like the bottlenose dolphin of the children's world, jumped out of the sea with a shout of greeting before disappearing again in a splash.

Perin waved at the two figures, beckoning them closer. When it was a little more than a metre away from the rock, the marine mammal's head popped out of the water. But the other creature that popped out of the sea water was the most awkward-looking thing the children had ever seen. A head popped out of the water with hair as white as any cloud could ever be. The thin face and torso of a young man in his late teens followed, skin a little darker than Perin's sandy complexion.

Of course, the hair or even the almost luminescent amethyst-coloured eyes, wasn't what made the children's mouths hang open in surprise. At the junction between water and air, the human form ended and what appeared to be the body of a huge sea turtle began. It was like a centaur; the turtle head was replaced by the upper body of a human. The turtle part resembled no single sea turtle of Earth. The flippers were large and sleek, the shell a mottled pattern of black and brown. The tail was long (almost as long as the shell) and flattened so that it seemed it could help with swimming with a side-to-side movement like a fish. The scaly skin was dark green.

Susan's diary had given short descriptions of many creatures, but none like this.

"Well, Perin, it seems you have found some strange companions," the creature said. "I've never received stares like this in all my life."

Johann recovered from his stupor quickly, attempting to put on a façade of aloofness. Helena smiled in embarrassment. 

Perin smiled as well. "Lady Helena, Lo Johann, these are my friends Yanu the Talking Dolphin and Jel the Tortu." Perin bent down on the rock, moving her face closer to her sea-dwelling friends. "I'm sorry to get to business so quickly, but these children of Adam and Eve have been given a task by Aslan. They need to get to the king. The real king. Can you get them there?"

Yanu and Jel exchanged a quick glance. "Now?" they both asked.

"Yes," said Perin with a serious expression. "I do not think it is safe for them to stay on land. They will explain on the way."

It didn't take long for them to make up their minds. Yanu saw the look of acceptance on his friend's face and voiced their decision: "If it is Aslan's will."

"Thanks, boys," Perin said with a smile. "I hope you don't mind getting wet," she said to the children. "You can trust them. They will keep you safe."

***

Helena found the pair to be quite enjoyable company. They made jokes that she didn't understand, but she understood they were jokes because they laughed. They used some words and names that she did not know and was sure that Johann didn't either. Both she and the older boy sat on Jel's back somewhat as they might a horse's. The Tortu stayed at the surface, looking back over his shoulder at the two if he spoke to them or to check on them. Yanu, though he was likely a lot faster stayed beside them. The children chose to ride on Jel as they figured the broad shell would help keep them drier than if they rode on the dolphin. As they moved along, Helena thought that their estimation was right, but she didn't spend much time thinking about that.

What did maintain her attention were the stories that the two marine creatures told. They were ecstatic at seeing a genuine son of Adam and daughter of Eve.

"And _I_ get to carry them!" Jel jokingly boasted. Yanu laughed and retorted he was content to be their escort.

They were such a team. Together, they gave a summary of what migratory birds who'd spent time in the north told them about humans who had gone there from another world. Their recount sounded very similar to what she read in her grandmum's journal.

But, according to the latter parts of the tales, Susan and her three siblings returned home, leaving the Northern Land of Narnia in the hands of other humans, a line of good kings chosen by the Lion Aslan just as Helena's grandmother, grandaunt and granduncles had been. Their tales (or at least the important parts) weren't as complete as Helena would have liked. After all, many years had passed; Susan's journal had said that time seemed accelerated in this world when compared to hers. 

She would have liked to have heard more about her grandmother. Nevertheless, as it was, she enjoyed their retellings even though they'd jokingly yet respectfully called her grandmother Queen Susan the Gorgeous, which she knew wasn't the name Susan was given at her coronation.

Why was it that she'd never met or heard about Grandmum Susan's siblings? Based on the pair's stories, she'd learned a bit more, though: after Narnia's Golden Age (that's what they called the time when Susan and her siblings reigned), they went back home to England and returned to Narnia once more centuries later as children to save Narnia from an evil king. Then, they left again, and there were no more stories of other-worldly human visitors.

 _So they came back as children,_ Helena mused. That made sense. Susan had reached adulthood there, but then gone back to England as a preteen, just as when she first got to Narnia. That explained why no one would have known that she  well, they  had gone to another world. _You grew up twice, Grandmum!_ She smiled a bit, glad for her small discovery. Helena was glad that this world had not forgotten her grandmother.

But the mystery of the missing Pevensie siblings remained. 

"So, why don't you tell us how you came here?" Yanu said in his excited dolphin voice.

"Well, you two probably won't believe this," Helena said with a little mischief in her voice, "but Queen Susan's my grandmother."

"As the Lion Roars!" Jel explained, lifting his hands from the salty water to clap them together. "You are not Lady Helena, you are _Princess_ Helena!"

Helena laughed a bit and continued. "She, um, died recently. She left me a journal in which she wrote of her life in this world. And while I was reading it, it was like I came into this world _through_ the journal. Then, Aslan spoke to me and told me what he wanted us to do."

Jel was looking over his shoulder when he said, "What about you?"

The water had been very calm and Jel swam along very gently. Helena didn't even have to hold on to Johann, who sat before her. Perhaps that is why her thoughts didn't wander unto him for much of the journey. He had been quiet and she realized that she did not know anything about him and how he'd come to this world. Her smile faded a bit as she focussed her attention on him, feeling somewhat ashamed.

Johann actually barely heard any of the conversation. His mind was in another time, in another world, replaying events that he longed for and knew would never come back to him. Almost all his energy was spent fighting the memories away. He didn't want to feel hope or happiness. As far as he was concerned, there could be no more of that in his life and the sooner he accepted that fact, the better off he was.

It took a while for Johann to realize that Yanu had asked a question. He searched his short-term memory for the words that floated around, but never took root. Finally, he stuttered a response: "I  I don't know. I was at home, lying on the floor and then I was here. I'm not lord, not grandson of a king or queen and I don't know this lion."

"Well, rest assured he knows you," Jel said.

Johann didn't say anything in response. That reminded him of something his mother had said to him many times. He immediately shut that thought away, putting on as neutral an expression as he could. Who cared if this Aslan knew him?

Helena figured that he wanted to say little or nothing else and so she asked a question she'd been meaning to ask, but forgot in the earlier excitement. "My grandmum's journal doesn't mention Ularni," she said. "And I got the feeling that Talking Beasts and those things were mostly restricted to Narnia."

"Oh, we are, milady," Yanu explained, "in the Northern Lands."

"Your grandmother probably never travelled past Calormen, a land filled with humans who consider creatures like us demons," Jel explained. "Beyond that, there is Archenland where we are welcome, but Narnians perhaps don't frequent. Narnia is just north of there."

"Narnians are a proud lot, they are," the dolphin continued, rolling on his back as he swam alongside them. "They prefer to stay within their own land."

"Queen Susan's immediate reality would have been that outside of Narnia, only Humans were intelligent beings," Jel added.

"It's been such a long time," Yanu said thoughtfully, "maybe we did have our origins there, though. Perhaps my school and I should take a pilgrimage there again; it has been some time. It's said that Narnia is the site of the world's origin. That it was _there_ that Aslan sung the world into being!"

Yanu dived excitedly at the prospect and surfaced at the opposite side of Jel (his right), and jumped over him in a huge arch, showering the children in a spray of salty water. Helena laughed as she and Johann covered their faces in reflex. Johann groaned in annoyance.

"There it is," Jel announced, pointing. The children looked and saw the green island, still a little way off. "We'll be there soon!"

***

It was not until it was too late that Perin realized just how right she had been to fear being overheard. She sat staring out into the sea, wondering what lay beyond. She'd only ever gone far enough to swim in shallow waters, enjoying the sea with her two closest friends.

"Be safe, my friends," she whispered. She was looking in the direction of what was fabled to be the land of Aslan and the Emperor; beyond the sea. "Dear Lion, please keep them safe."

Her eyes widened in shock and pain and she got to her feet instantly. "No." The word slipped out of her mouth, barely formed, little more than a breath or a gasp. She ran as fast as she could, stumbling more than she'd like as her feet slapped against the sand.

The pain shot through her insides. She knew what was happening.

She ran past the other palms, other Dryads. She heard the sound before she got there. It was unmistakeable. She skidded to a stop against the sandy, grassy ground.

"Please... no," she begged.

She looked into the eyes of all who were present. She was looking into the eyes of the male Dryad who had informed King Erya of her betrayal when she died, her humanoid body simply vanishing and her palm body falling to the earth after hitting against others on the way down. A Dwarf settled the axe over his shoulder and admired his handiwork.

"Well done. You will be rewarded for your loyalty, Dryad," the king said, looking down at the traitor. Perin had once considered him a friend. He bowed his head low and vanished, returning to his tree. "Come, Torc. We must find my brother. If the she-Dryad sent the children of Adam and Eve towards his island home, we might never know what could ensue."

"Yes, sire," Torc said with a bow. His quiver was securely strapped to his back and his bow to his side.

Erya led the way towards the beach. A single large grey feather fell from the king and settled at the stump where Perin had once stood strong and proud. A gust a sea breeze quickly blew the feather away.

***

Johann didn't know how long it had taken to get to the island. Two hours? Four? Anyway, by the time he was there, he was thirsty and hungry. Yanu, of course, couldn't get too close to the beach for fear of getting beached. "It's happened to me before," he'd said. "Never again!" Jel was far less awkward on land than the children had thought he would be. With his hands and flippers, he was able to move quite swiftly, able to keep up with the children for some metres onto the beach. His upper body was stronger than it looked.

Yet, his turtle portion did hinder him considerably on land. There was no way he would be able to go with them all the way in their trek on the island. It was a small island. One could walk its entire perimeter in one or two hours, maybe less; neither of the children had much experience with such estimates and neither sea creature had much experience traversing land. 

This was the only beach they'd seen and there were only maybe about fifteen metres of it. Everywhere else the island touched the seas was a cliff surface; a difficult if not impossible climb. The island was largely a forested plateau, not tall enough to be a mountain. The children could hike to the top in about twenty minutes.

Yanu and Jel told them that the island was under the crown of Ularni. Many, many years before, it had been christened Narnia Isle.

Jel pointed. "When I have visited, I often see the king there." He indicated a place that jutted out over the cliff. Johann tried to burn the image in his head. "Those are fruit trees. Many of them are, at least. If you are hungry, they will allow you to take some."

"What about you?" Helena asked.

"Well, I'll stay here until you come back," he answered. "Yanu?" he called out, "would you mind getting me some food?"

Yanu laughed and bobbed his head up and down in a nod before quickly disappearing beneath the surface.

Johann hadn't removed his gaze from that spot. He looked towards Jel and then to Helena. He gave a faint smile, as genuine as he could make it, and said, "Thank you."

Helena echoed the sentiment in her eyes as they headed off, Johann in the lead. They walked on the sand, deeper inland. When they left the beach, the climb was a bit more difficult than they would have liked, but they did not let up. Mostly because Johann was determined not to stop and Helena did not feel like being showed up by him. 

There was little conversation as they trekked. As they neared the summit, Helena began to feel silly, as she realised she never asked what King Enden looked like. In a world like this, any manner of creature was possible.

The fruits were delicious and juicy. They were fleshy and somewhat orange. At first, Helena had wondered aloud if they should be peeled. Johann took a bite and found that that was unnecessary. They ate their fill as they walked along.

Finding that spot had been tricky. From this vantage point, closer and at the same elevation, everything looked different. They kept the edge in sight, not wanting to get lost within the maze of trees. Eventually, Johann spotted a landmark that looked familiar; a huge gouge in the edge, probably caused when some of the earth fell from there to the hungry waters below.

"It is not far now," he said.

He was right. After another few minutes of walking, they found the jutting place. It was a place without trees, only grass. It jutted out over the cliff. They saw no one and no sign that anyone had been there. Johann looked to the cliff edge and then to the other side of the grassy clearing. There was a cave there. It looked about as big as a house and the cave entrance was a large gaping hole that someone eight feet tall could walk through, maybe with just their hair brushing against the ceiling.

"Maybe the king stays in there," Johann guessed. He thought for a while, looking at how dark it might be in the cave. It was the afternoon and the sun was sending its light on the other side of the island so the inside of the cave would not benefit. "I am going inside. But you should stay here." He did not know what could be in there. The island seemed quite unoccupied except for the tiny animals that they had heard but not seen in the trees, but he wasn't so sure it was safe in the cave. 

"And stay away from the edge."

With that, he walked off into the cave. 

Helena's mouth hung open a bit in disbelief before she frowned and folded her arms. The nerve! The whole time, Johann was aloof and refused to even really talk to her. He didn't look more than a year or two older than she was and yet, he was giving _her_ orders as though he were an adult!

Even as she rolled her eyes, she saw it. Between the trees, she saw the figure walking slowly along. What was it? Only one way to find out. She moved towards the edge of the cliff. Because it jutted out, she knew she could see it better since through the trees, she had seen that it was at the edge as well.

She gasped a gasp of joyous surprise as she saw what it was that stood there. It was looking at her too; she knew that even though it was so far. She was just about the call out to it when the earth beneath her gave way...


	2. The True King

# The Chronicles of Narnia: Narnia Isle

### Part 2: The True King

וגם אתה אריה

Johann had found nothing in the cave. It wasn't as dark as he had expected, nor as deep. He heard Helena's scream just as he had started back towards the cave entrance. The only thought that came into his head was that he needed to get to her as fast as he could.

His bare feet stomped against dirt and stone as he sped out of the cave and onto the grass. His head darted from side to side; Helena was nowhere to be seen. But what was that sound...? It was the sound of something beating against air. Each beat came in quick succession. It was so strange.

It came from over the cliff. He saw where the ground had fallen. He headed towards it, but he didn't make it. The source of the sound showed itself before he could get there.

It was a horse! A _flying horse_! It was mostly white with large brown splotches in some places. Johann had little experience with horses, but it looked to be very strong. It landed, its wings affecting the grass beneath somewhat like a helicopter would.

Helena was holding on to its neck, looking almost as stunned as Johann felt.

She let go slowly, allowing her feet to touch the floor as it lowered its neck and tucked its huge, powerful wings away at its side.

"Are you alright?" the horse asked her. Was there anything in this world that _didn't_ talk? According to Jel and Yanu, there was, but it didn't seem so to Johann.

Helena nodded slowly, then said something softly that Johann did not hear. She held in her hand a single white feature that came from one of the horse's wings.

"My name is Enden-Fledge Yeremtere Ularni," the Flying Horse said. "And if I am not mistaken, you..."  he studied her closely, perhaps finding her appearance sufficiently foreign to him to warrant his conclusion  "are a daughter of Eve, are you not? And you"  he indicated Johann with his snout  "are a son of Adam."

"Yes," they both said. 

"What are your names? May I ask why you have come here?"

"I am Johann Jalloh," the dark-skinned boy introduced as he stepped closer.

"And my name is Helena Kensington, Your Majesty," the English girl said, almost fully recovered from the near-death experience. If Enden had not saved her...

"You call me by a royal title," said Enden. "If this is a matter of state, you had best go before my brother, Erya. He is the king of Ularni."

"You see, that is why we are here," Helena told him. "Aslan sent us. He says that you must reclaim your throne."

"Aslan? He has come here?" Enden turned his body away from them. "First, colts of Adam, then Aslan." He chuckled slightly. "To think I had begun to doubt the tales." He faced them over his shoulder and asked, "You are from another world, aren't you, not from the Northern Lands? That world of humans."

He turned again away at their nods. He did not look back at them as he spoke this time.

"You must be mistaken. Aslan knows I haven't the strength to rule a nation now."

"But you must," Helena burst out, not knowing what else to say. "Aslan says your brother is a usurper, and your people say that he is a wicked king "

"Now, that's enough!" the horse yelled with a command that was certainly reminiscent of the king that he had once been. "I will _not_ allow you to disparage my family!" He reared on them, spreading his wings to their full span. "I will _not_!"

Helena started backing away for fear, but Johann held her hand, stopping her. He gave her a look of determination that was intended to give her strength. It did.

"Family is important to you, isn't it?" he said to the Beast that could no doubt render him severely injured or dead with a single beat of a wing or a kick from those strong legs. "Without your son, you don't feel the strength to do it."

Enden looked at him with angry eyes as black as tar. He pulled back his wings a little as he glared at this small creature.

"My... my parents died recently," Johann continued. "I saw them die. Both of them. I lay there in the cold, wanting all life to pass me by and leave me behind with my parents. And then, I found myself in this world. Helena told me that Aslan gave me a quest." He looked at her briefly as he corrected himself. "Gave _us_ a quest. I realized that I have more strength than I thought I did. I found something I had to do, and I could, even though I felt weak, even though it hurts.

"Look at yourself, King Enden." Enden's wings were almost fully retracted now. "You have kept strong. You have not stopped living completely because of your son's death. You _can_ do it."

Enden looked at Johann intently for some time. They knew he was looking at him because his face was pointed straight at Johann, so both his eyes could focus on him. (Horses have their eyes at the sides of their heads so they can see considerable more of the world around them than humans.) Enden backed away a bit, slowly.

"Those eyes," he muttered. 

He sighed. His wings were fully retracted now. Now, he looked like a graceful, powerful creature, but not a threatening one.

"I do not expect you to know, brave Johann and Helena, that you and I have something in common," Enden said to them, slowly turning away again. He spoke clearly so they could hear him. "My bloodline, like yours begins not in this world, but in yours.

"The people of this kingdom look to the Northern Land as the Land of Aslan. Well, second to his Country across the sea. It is there that Aslan stood as he sang his song that created all that we see. And it is there that he first chose creatures to give the gift of Voice.

"But there was one that the song did not create. My ancestor, called Fledge, was a Horse that came to this world from your own. Aslan chose him to become the world's first Flying Horse, the father of all Flying Horses. My ancestors remained friends with the first kings of Narnia for generations. Soon, Flying Horses grew in number among the Talking Horses. My father was a Flying Horse, but not my mother.

"The lands between my kingdom and Narnia grew hostile against beings like us. Travel between the lands grew increasingly difficult. Flight and the ocean served as the most viable routes between the two lands. And eventually, most of what we possessed of the Land of Aslan were those stories that were passed down over the generations. We guarded them.

"In the past, a human army from the north attacked our land. We were not going to let them make our world void of our kind as they had done to the Northern Lands. An ancestor of mine called Ularni led the battle and was victorious. They named him king." He let out a small horse sound as he flicked his tail. "He became king of one of the few strongholds of our kind, perhaps one of the only _two_ places in the world where people still lived by Aslan."

He turned towards them again, slowly, meditatively. "That is my heritage. I would be a disgrace to my line if I chose to dismiss the rule of Aslan now. But how can I believe that my brother is wicked?"

The two children kept quiet. Johann had said all that he could think to say and Helena thought it best if Enden answer that question himself. She glanced at her companion. His parents... that must be why he was so distant, almost cold. 

"Please, leave me now," Enden requested. "I need time alone."

***

The children walked along the same path they used before. They didn't know whether they had been a success or a failure in their attempt to convince Enden. They intended to return to Jel and Yanu and just... wait.

As they walked, Helena plaited the white feather into her hair. She wanted it as a keepsake and she had no pockets. Suddenly, she got an idea. "Johann," she called to the boy who led the way about two metres ahead. At his small vocalised reply, she continued, "Do you have an e-mail address? I don't use the internet much and my parents prefer I not have an e-mail address yet, but I could use one of theirs."

Johann stopped and turned, saying the English word slowly: "Internet?"

Helena stopped, too, quickly understanding that it must have been the language barrier. "Yes, internet. You know the network of computers that allows people to access information, communicate with each other?" She added jokingly: "It has been around since the 1970s maybe."

She saw the look on Johann's face as his mouth fell open and she was perplexed by it. Did she not explain well enough?

Johann said the number in his head, over and over, hoping that it was his English that was wrong. But it wasn't. After a time, he was sure of it.

"Nineteen... seventies, you say?" the German boy said, more slowly still.

Helena nodded. "Yes..."

Johann rested his back against the tree, wondering if in his bewilderment, he would faint. "When I came here, it was approximately forty years before that." He didn't look at Helena as her confusion was somewhat displaced with understanding.

According to her grandmother's journal, time in Narnia's world had little to do with that of England, of Earth. After Susan and her siblings left Narnia the first time, they returned after maybe a year or so. But centuries had passed in Narnia. Could the time discrepancy explain why they were both here, separated by decades in their world, but in the same time in Ularni? Didn't the two worlds both move forward in time, even if at different speeds?

Johann had a question of his own. But he thought he should explain something before asking it.

And so, he began:

"I grew up in Deutschland." (The German word for Germany. Johann always had difficulty remembering to say the English word and he was not interested in thinking hard enough to remember at the time.) "My father came from one of the colonies in Africa but my mother spent most of her life in England.

"They, the people had... ideas of who should be..." he stopped, trying to figure out how to say it. Johann remembered the campaigns, the posters. There was one that stuck out to him: a picture of two ladies, one 'Aryan', one black. They were smiling at each other; friends. The caption on the picture? _'The result! Loss of racial pride.'_

Helena finished it for him. "They had ideas of who was the Germanic race and who wasn't..."

Johann looked at her briefly. He wouldn't have put it that way, but he was sure she understood, so he continued. "My friends Aaliyah and Jahdiel  they are twin; at first, they had to wear that yellow thing that had _Jude_ on it. All of us could not go to school. We joked about it. I told them they were afraid more of them because they looked so much like them. But I... they were less afraid of me because they could see the difference easy. So I did not have to wear that yellow star.

"And then, they came for them. Jahdiel and Aaliyah and their family... gone." He was struggling to keep himself still now, to prevent himself from shaking. He didn't know how effective it was. "And then they came for _us_."

His father had been smart. They'd had an old fowl coop on their property that had not been used in a while. It hadn't taken long to dig under it. The perfect hiding place, very well hidden. All one would see were the wooden planks on the floor of the coop. They looked perfectly nailed in place. No one would ever guess that three of the planks were nailed together and could be lifted to make way for them to hide.

It was a pity that Johann had been the only one outside when they arrived. Through the window, his mother told him to hide under the coop. He'd obeyed. He hid there for hours. His father had lined the hiding place with wood so his clothes didn't get too dirty as he lay there patiently, listening.

It was so ironic that as they questioned them as to the location of their son, they placed the Jallohs right before his hiding place. Kneeling and quivering before the coop, they said nothing. They had already been badly beaten by then and the men, soldiers, punched and slapped them even more during this interrogation. With the trap door opened just slightly so he could see out, he watched in silence. His parents would have been proud of him. He was even silent when they were shot in the head; both of them.

Well, technically, he dropped the door, which made a sound audible to him, but apparently not audible to anyone else, perhaps because of the gunshots. He had been too stunned for any sound to slip out of his mouth.

"They killed my parents," was all her told her about the event. Well, almost all: "All that I have of them is this." His hand reached for the object that hung around his neck. He showed her the wooden cross, about four centimetres long, that this mother almost always wore.

"Johann, some dangerous men are here!" his mother had whispered to him in as much of a shout as she dared. "Go, hide!"

"No," he'd answered. "What about you?"

He saw her darting around her thoughts for some way to get him to obey. Then, as quickly as she could, she took off her pendant and tossed it to him from the open window. "Hold on to that. And I _will_ take it back from you later. Now, go!"

She'd been wrong, of course. Or she lied. Whatever the case, both she and his father were gone.

Helena was speechless. It was a horrible thing that Johann had witnessed, had gone through. And yet, somehow, she felt in him a connection to her grandmum: Susan and her siblings first went to Narnia during World War II, around the same time from which Johann came to this world. She suddenly realised what had seemed strange to her about Johann's clothes. Somehow, they seemed... old-fashioned and lacked the look of something mass-produced.

They were both silent for a while, then Johann broke the silence. "We should go." He looked at her with eyes filled with so much sorrow that they couldn't even cry. Then, he turned again and Helena followed.

***

Yanu surfaced to take a breath. He'd just had a bite to eat. Fishing alone wasn't the easiest thing in the world; it was easier with the teamwork of his school, but with surprise and speed, he'd been able to snag some.

It was then that he saw the Flying Horse. This one was grey: King Erya. What was he doing there?

There was someone on his back. That was strange. Talking Horses, Unicorns, Centaurs... no one would even dream of riding noble beats such as those. Even he, a creature of the sea, knew that.

Yanu gauged their trajectory and realized that they were heading to a large rock next to the island that stuck out of the water. If he was quiet, he could listen to them without them noticing him.

 

***

When the children got back to Jel, he was eating some flat green seaweed, but Yanu was nowhere in sight. Helena gave him the two fruits she'd picked for him from the plateau. It hadn't been very easy to get them down to the beach with all the climbing they had to do, but they did it.

"Why, thank you," the Tortu said. "How did you know I'm an herbivore?"

Helena shook her head with a shrug and smiled, "I didn't, really."

"Where is Yanu?" Johann asked as the two children sat on the sand beside Jel.

Between mouthfuls of seaweed and fleshy fruit, Jel answered, "He brought me some food, but went out to eat some himself. But he did say he'd take me some more seaweed." 

Johann sat still, looking at the strips of seaweed on the sand before Jel who wiped off the sand with his hands them off before eating them. He absently stared at the imprints in the sand that Jel had made as he pulled himself onto the beach. What a day this had turned out to be.

Johann had been the first to see Yanu coming, but Jel had been the first to realize that he wasn't approaching with his usual playful demeanour. He was swimming to them from their right, as quickly as his fins could carry him. The three hurried into the water, Jel leaving behind a half-eaten strip of seaweed. The water splashed them wet again, Jel's snow-white hair and Helena's strawberry-blonde hair sticking to their heads.

"He killed him!" Yanu was saying. "He killed him!"

"Who?" his lifelong friend asked, making a gesture with his hands that told him get him to steady his thoughts. "Who killed whom?"

"Erya! He killed his own nephew!"

The children's eyes widened slightly, but Jel's didn't. "Explain," he said succinctly, keeping his head as clear as he could. "How do you know?"

"I saw Erya flying along. I followed him and he landed on a big rock just off the island. They didn't see me."

"They?"

"Yes, Erya was travelling with another. I didn't see him clearly, but I think he's a Dwarf. I overheard them talking. He was preparing poisoned arrows for King Enden. They're going to kill him, too! Erya said that they were going to have to kill him just as he killed King Enden's son!"

Jel looked to the two children with his bright-purple eyes and they knew what his eyes were telling them. They turned immediately and struggled against the waist-deep water as fast as they could until they could run and they kept running. They knew now that the two marine creatures could provide no further help for them in this quest. It was all up to them now.

They ran as fast as they could, climbed as quickly as they could, getting quite a few cuts and bruises in the process that stung a little as the salty water dripped unto them from their clothes.

They rushed past the trees, hoping they were going the right direction. They were trusting that the king had not moved from where they had left him; they had no choice but to do just that.

But they were right. They burst from forest into the clearing and saw the two brothers standing before each other. Erya had grey, almost silver fur and feathers with eyes as black as Enden's. He looked as strong as his brother, and just a little taller.

"Helena, Johann," said Enden as both Flying Horses looked to the children. "Is something the matter?" Their hurry and expressions much have revealed much to Enden.

The children looked from Erya to Enden before Johann said, "Your Majesty, Erya has come to kill you."

"He killed your son and now, he's come for you," added Helena.

"What? Preposterous!" Erya exclaimed with a horse snort. "As I said, I came here to visit my brother. It has been so long." Four dark eyes exchanged stares as the brothers studied each other.

"Children," Enden said, not facing them, "are you sure of this?"

"Yes," Helena said.

"A dolphin overheard him telling someone, a..." 

"Dwarf," Helena finished while Johann searched for the word. "Yanu didn't see him, but he thinks he was talking to a Dwarf."

Enden let out a monosyllabic chuckle. "Ah, my dear friend Yanu. He and Jel visit me ever so often on this island, this self-imposed exile of mine. I trust them. Which is more than I can say for _you_ , my brother."

Erya echoed his older brother's laugh. "I knew you children of Adam would be trouble." He whinnied and reared up on his hind legs, the sign of the start of a battle.

Enden did not miss a beat. With a snort of anger from the rightful king, the battle was underway. Kicks, bites, slaps of their wings, any kind of onslaught was used in this battle. Johann thought he understood Enden's rage. He was betrayed by his brother; his son was murdered, all for the sake of a kingship. Johann knew that someone who was so corrupt, who would do such things for power, did not deserve it.

"The Dwarf!" he said to Helena. "Where is he?"

They knew he could be anywhere. He had a bow, a long-range weapon. He could have been anywhere with a good vantage point. And he could remain hidden until it was too late...

"The trees!" Helena said. She turned rushed to the trees that lined the clearing. "Please!" she said to them. "There is a Dwarf around here somewhere! He is going to hurt the king! Please find him!"

Helena was a smart girl. She had paid attention to Susan's journal. The trees of Narnia Isle had lacked communication with the mainland for so long that they did not understand its artefacts. They hadn't realized that the object the Dwarf had in his hand was an offensive weapon. But now, they knew.

Just a few yards away from the children, Torc, a Black Dwarf, the best archer in Ularni, had taken aim and was about to let the poison arrow loose right into the muscle of Enden's hind leg. He never did see the low-lying branch that swiped at the back of his head. 

But, the arrow was sent flying nonetheless. It careened towards the battling brothers, not precisely on its mark, but still leaving a deep gouge in the Enden's leg. Unfortunately for Erya, the arrow found a new mark, burying itself into his side. He yelled out in pain: "No!"

He immediately regretted suggesting to Torc that particular poison. Extracted from a rare frog found only in Ularni, the poison worked _very_ quickly. He became disoriented fast, stumbling and stumbling until...

He heard his brother calling his name as he moved over the edge, but he could say nothing. As he fell, he could not flap his wings strong silver wings. He could no longer even breathe as he crashed into the sea.

The children rushed over to Enden. They saw the sorrowful look in his eyes.

"My brother," he muttered. His legs were shaking. "My brother." Those huge black eyes grew misty.  "That arrow... it was poisoned."

Johann and Helena couldn't believe it. That gouge, however deep it was, couldn't have been enough to leave sufficient poison behind to hurt Enden... could it?

But it seemed it was. Enden began lowering himself to the grassy ground. Soon, he was lying on his side, his breathing was becoming laboured. He must have been in pain, the children thought.

"Johann..." the king said. "Come here."

The boy came closer to Enden's face sitting beside him and put a hand on the noble creature's head, feeling helpless. Helena sat beside them, a hand on the king's chest.

"Those eyes. They both face me directly, but they look so much like my son's. Before you came to this island, Aslan came to me in a dream. He told me that what was mine would be returned to me. And he said that the one who would take my place as king would have eyes like my son's.

"I did not believe at first, but then, you came... and how could I disbelieve then?"

Johann was silent, stroking Enden's mane. A quivering white-and-brown wing touched Johann gently. 

"I do not think I will survive this," Enden said. "But I take you as my son, Johann Jalloh. _You_ will be king after me." The image of the king in Johann's sight grew slightly distorted as the tears welled up. "You are the one who was chosen. You... will be a fine... king." The wing fell limp. The king fell silent. They could no longer hear his breathing.

"His heart isn't beating," Helena whispered, not feeling anything where her hand had just felt his heart.

The tears flowed freely down Johann's dark cheeks now. His son? He'd taken him as his son? That meant... that another parent was dead...

Johann sobbed loudly, burying his head in Enden's white neck. " _Nein_! _Nein_!" he whimpered. This king had been a good, brave creature. He had not deserved this fate. And yet... here it was.

He felt Helena tapping on his shoulder as she said his name. He almost shrugged her off, but he didn't. Instead, he sat up to face her. But she wasn't looking at him; she was looking past him to something else. Johann turned to follow her gaze and there he was.

Aslan.

He knew him instantly. No description would have been sufficient; and yet one must be given nonetheless. Johann saw a lion that seemed not only larger than any lion of his world, but intelligent, and far more regal. In the late afternoon sunlight, it looked like every strand of his fur had been spun from pure gold. His mane looked brilliant, wild and radiant as if the sun's light had been captured within it. His eyes were a cerulean that was deeper than the deepest ocean, purer than the purest spring.

Aslan called their names. Johann breathed slowly, feeling... what was he feeling...? Whatever it was, it was overwhelming. He got to his feet and Helena followed suit. Aslan walked towards them. He left behind the unconscious Dwarf that he must have carried into the clearing.

"You have been successful," the Lion said.

"How?" Johann asked, the tears still flowing. "We did not restore anything to Enden."

"No, son of Adam, you are wrong. You returned to him confidence in his strength to live, something that he hadn't had since the death of his son."

"You could have saved him," Johann said. He could not believe how bold he was being before this being that was so powerful. If with a song Aslan created this world, he could have protected Enden, yes, but he could easily and severely punish Johann for such insubordination.

The cerulean eyes came towards him and looked directly into Johann's brown orbs. Johann found there a reflection of his own sorrow; tears dripping from that impossibly deep ocean. No, not a reflection. It was as if Aslan's sorrow were as deep as that ocean. "There is so much for you to understand, dear Johann. So much. And you _will_ learn. That is my promise to you."

Johann's eyes widened slightly as she stared at him. "You..." His hand strayed to his mother's pendant. "You..." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I am not ready to be a king."

Aslan smiled. Johann was sure that was a smile. "I know." He brought his head down towards the head of the Flying Horse. "But you will be." The children watched intently as Aslan nudged Enden's face with his nose. "Wake up, my friend."

The king of Ularni obeyed. Slowly, he stirred. Seeing Aslan, he got to his feet as quickly as he could. In a few seconds, the king was on his feet, wings spread in excited realization. "Aslan," he said as he bowed his head before the lion.

Aslan nodded in response. "Welcome back, King Enden." He turned towards the children. "King Enden's will to live proved too strong for the poison. He lived, however weakly." 

Helena saw that the wound on his leg was sealed, leaving just a pink scar. Aslan had healed him.

"Prince Johann," Aslan said. "You are given a choice. You may stay as crown prince of Ularni or you may return to your own world."

Johann turned to Helena. She smiled at him. Then, he turned back to Aslan and Enden. After a while, he asked Enden, "Do you really want me as your son?" His eyes were looking to the ground.

The king chuckled gently and said, "Of course I do. You are bold and noble, Johann. You saved my life. Both of you did. You will make a fine prince and a worthy king."

"What about Helena?" Johann asked. 

Enden looked to Aslan, who answered, "Princess Helena, you must return to the world your grandmother returned to."

Helena and Johann looked at each other for a while. This meant they would part ways. They both knew that. The taller boy reached out a hand to shake. Helena smiled with misty eyes and hugged him tightly.

"Goodbye," she whispered. 

"Goodbye," he repeated as they released each other. Prince Johann stepped toward King Enden as Princess Helena drew closer to Aslan.

"I would be glad to be your son," Johann said as he wrapped his hands around Enden's neck.

The scene suddenly changed around Helena and Aslan. Everything grew green, just like the light that she'd seen when she first went into that world. They moved away from the ground and into the sky. Before she knew it, she was somehow standing between an aerial view of each of the two worlds. Before her, behind Aslan, was the world that she had just left: Johann and Enden looking around in confusion for her and Aslan and then settling down as if to talk. The boy and his adoptive father ignored the unconscious Dwarf, perhaps confident that the Trees would ensure that he did not escape. Behind Helena was her bedroom as it would look from the ceiling.

"Helena," Aslan began, "you and Johann were given a rare privilege. You both were taken though time to the world of Ularni and Narnia. You see, time passes linearly for the two worlds, although the speed of that passing relative to each other does vary. In your time, the world you just left no longer exists. You were brought to Ularni to see that Queen Susan the Gentle was never forgotten by the people of that world, even in a land as distant as Ularni."

Helena looked into his eyes, as emerald as the light around them, still unsure as to the full motive for sending her there. The journal appeared before her and floated into her hands.

"Do not make your grandmother's mistake. If you do, you will live a life of regret just as she did. Return to your world now, Princess Helena, daughter of Eve."

Helena began to turn away, her long reddish-blonde hair (still a little wet from the salty waters of Narnia Isle's beach) brushing against her back and shoulder. But, she stopped, looked to the Lion and rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his head, wishing she could immerse herself in that warm, soft mane forever. 

"Thank you," she said to him as she let go slowly.

"You are very welcome," was the reply.

She tore herself away from him and walked towards the room. It was so strange seeing it from above. Soon, without warning, she found herself seated on her bed, the journal in her hand. She was perfectly dry and all the cuts and bruises she'd received her gone. Other than the memory of going there, there was nothing that told her that she had left this spot since she'd returned from dinner and settled down to read. 

_Was all that just a dream...?_ she thought, feeling disappointed. Suddenly she realized something that gave her the answer. She felt something against her shoulder. She lifted her hand to the left side of her head and found it. The feather from King Enden's wing! It was large, white and beautiful, locked in place in a single plait on the left side of her head. _No! It was real!_

She turned her attention immediately to the journal in her hands. She intended to spend the entire night reading the rest of it if she had to.

What a story was contained therein. Susan had written of her and her siblings' return to this world, but not much of what happened in between. She'd skipped ahead to their second visit to Narnia, which hadn't lasted as long. And then, the tone changed. Susan admitted that she had denied the existence of Narnia, or at least tried to. When her siblings and the others who had been there spoke to her about it, she would say they had just been games, make-believe. 

Helena now understood the look of longing and sorrow that Grandmum Susan had had in her eyes when she'd spoken of her old home of Narnia. All the Friends of Narnia (that was the term they had used) died in a tragic train accident, leaving her behind, alone. It jarred her somehow and she had such regret. 

_You were brought to Ularni to see that Queen Susan the Gentle was never forgotten by the people of that world, even as distant as the land of Ularni..._ She was never forgotten, even though she had tried so hard to forget.

 _Oh, my grandmum Susan,_ Helena thought. _Thank you for this. I promise I will heed your warning. Yours and Aslan's._

It was Susan's final entry that was Helena's favourite, the one that she'd read most often after that night. It began like this:

_'On their last visit to the world of Narnia, Lucy and Edmund saw Aslan right before coming back. Lucy told me something that he had said to them, something that she said she would never forget. I was just about ready to start ignoring those things, but I listened anyway._

_'He'd said that he is present in our world, too; just known by a different name._

_'I heard her rant about that so long that I grew tired of it. But after they died, I started thinking about it very deeply. I kept hearing Lucy's voice. My dear Helena, now, near the end of my life, I think I finally understand._

_'I always wondered if Narnia would forget me as I have forgotten it. But as Lucy had told me so often, it was never Narnia that mattered, it was always Aslan._

_'You see, I think I know the name he has in this world. And that one fact changes everything'_

***

The sunset fired lovely hues across the heavens of twilight, summoning the stars into visibility to display their dance to the earthbound creatures below. It had been a fair day and King Johann was standing near the beach after a day with his family.

He could hear the voice of his youngest child overhead. Prince Enden Caspian Ularni was pleading with his grandfather to go higher. The flap of powerful wings answered the plea, much to the delight of the seven-year-old. 

The twins, Anna and Stefan, named for Johann's biological parents, were at the beach, enjoying a game with Yanu and Jel, longstanding friends of the family.

Johann stood silently, looking at the monument before him.

"It still hurts me that I was not able to save her," he said. A light-coloured hand squeezed his gently as a head of long brown hair rested on his shoulder. "I let her down, just as I did my parents."

"No, you didn't," the brunette told him. "You did what they wanted. You _lived_. You continued to live, and you lived a life that would make them proud. And you continue to do so today."

Johann's brown eyes looked into her grey ones. His wife, Lyrian, was daughter of the former king of Narnia and brother to the current, who'd taken the throne near young Enden's third birthday. They'd met when Johann had accompanied his father on a royal sea voyage to Narnia to rekindle the old friendship between the two lands. Four years later, they were married.

Perin's trunk had long rotted away, of course. According to Ularni tradition, though, the stump she had left behind had been reproduced in stone and her name embossed on it. It stood as a monument to the brave Dryad who was instrumental in changing the nation.

Johann smiled and gave Lyrian a soft kiss on her forehead. They stood quietly for a few more moments. Soon, he heard the sound of hoofs and little feet as the King Father came with the young Princes and Princess to meet them. The three children, their tan skin and dark-brown hair almost identical in colour, had heard the story of Perin many times. They knew her importance to their father and grandfather and indeed all of Ularni.

The Flying Horse snorted a bit and looked to the skies through the branches of Palm Dryads, who remained silently within their bodies out of respect for the memory of Perin which the king had come to honour. "We should retire," Johann's father said softly. "It is getting dark."

Johann and Lyrian looked to Enden and with smiles aimed at him and their children, they turned and the family headed for home. Their palace was nearby, a seaside home that allowed them to be close to where they could meet Jel and Yanu.

Johann thought of Helena every once in a while. The time he'd shared with her was so distant, just as the world that they'd both been a part of. The world and life he knew now, he knew, was as it should be and he felt a renewed joy each day here with his family.

Laughing and talking amongst each other, the family did not see the set of eyes watching them. The invisible cerulean eyes followed them as they past where the four large paws rested on the grassy earth. Aslan smiled and sung a gentle song, a recollection of the one he'd sung in the very beginning and all the others he had sung since.

Yes; this was a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Helena Kensington is the character of a friend of mine who goes by the name of CaribbeanRose9 on Deviant Art. Check out her stuff! :)


End file.
